


the good die young, but so did this

by septiceyesweetheart



Category: tom holland - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drug Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Heavy Angst, Smut, Songfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:04:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septiceyesweetheart/pseuds/septiceyesweetheart
Summary: don't be fooled by the bits of warmth and slivers of happiness. this is not a happy story. be glad they're not in each other's lives anymore.





	1. the prologue/100 letters

**"Hands so bloody/Tastes like honey/I'm finding it hard to leave"~"I said I'm not something to butter up/And taste when you get bored"**

~~~

I am a child of two busy parents who worked for a modeling agency. From the age of 4, I was put into endless photoshoots, building up my career and my stable future. All my parents wanted for me was to not have any financial worry as I got older. I mean, that's cool, it worked. I lived a very comfortable life and I could do pretty much whatever I wanted.

My parents lived in New York, where I grew up. I moved out to Los Angeles to further the modeling thing when I was twenty years old. I made a name for myself over time, even before I was Tom Holland's girlfriend...   
  
He's not in my life anymore. Let me get that out of the way now.   
  
~   
  
"Please don't go away," he begged, hold my arm so tight it hurt. “Don't do this again, please…”   
  
You'd think I would be used to that feeling after all these years. I've heard these words before. I've been pressed up against the wall with him pinning my arms down before. We’ve both physically and emotionally cornered each other before, but one of us had to break the cycle. I had heard him plead and cry with me plenty of times. The only difference this time around was that I would not give in this time. It couldn’t be like this anymore.   
  
"I need you," he said, stroking my hair. "I love you. We need to help each other. We can get better."   
  
“We can get better,” I agreed, “but not like this. We can’t be with each other if we’re gonna get better.”   
  
Tom was getting desperate. He held me against the wall again, gripping my arms while tears welled up in his eyes. “I-I… My career. I’m flopping, I don’t know what to do. You, you can’t leave me like this. I can’t do this without you…”   
  
"Yes you can," I said back, resentment in my tone. "You have your other friends to help you. You’ve seen other girls behind my back. Your fans think you're some helpless bunny! You literally have the whole world in the palm of your hand! You can get on without me. I’m only worrying about myself now.”   
  
"I can take care of you like I always have. You’ve got me, remember?” His tone changed, and I knew where he was going.   
  
Now angry, I shoved him away from me. "I only have you because you didn't like my friends! You made me push them away, you kept me away from them! You made them hate me! You made the public hate me!”   
  
Tom didn't look at me, but he was not pleased by my actions. His hands balled into fists and he finally looked up.   
  
"I didn't make anyone hate you, love," he sneered, "you did that all on your own. Don't you see why you need me? You'll be all alone without me."   
  
It's not true. He's lying. I could go to a friend's house right now. That was the plan, anyway.   
  
"Maybe I'm better off alone, then!" I snapped.   
  
I walked past him to get to the door. But then he grabbed me by the arm again, and that was when I had it. Swiftly, I turned on my heel and and striked him on the nose with the palm of my hand. Immediately, I felt warm blood on my hand, and he yelled out in pain.   
  
“You can’t be this way anymore, you know it!” I yelled. “You can’t put your hands on whoever you want, whenever you want! You can’t say things to manipulate people! Don’t be stupid! Don’t-” I paused, knowing I was probably doing it right now. “I’m trying to unlearn that, because I’ve… I’ve done it too. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Are you talking about my nose or every other time you’ve screwed me over?” he snarked back as he went to find a rag to mop up the blood.

“Neither of us are innocent here!” I called after him. “We’re not good for each other! Maybe we were once, but it was hopeless. Together, we’re hopeless. You know that deep down. Did you want to spend the rest of your life with a bitch who cheats on you and treats you like shit?”

Tom appeared in the doorway again, having ice wrapped in a towel placed over his nose. Tears had fallen down his face, and he was quiet. He knew I was right.

“I’ve never loved someone like I loved you,” I told him, trying to cushion the blow.

“Bit of a stretch to say that,” he said back.

~

Nessa let me into her apartment. I crashed on her couch the night everything ended for good, and I crashed hard. Once I was past the crying (I cried a lot more than usual - a sign that it was definitely over), I spent my freetime under the brown fluffy blanket Nessa provided for me.

She graciously brought me water and a sandwich if she thought I went too long without eating. She would also drag me out of the apartment before I could miss anymore photoshoots and make things worse for myself. She helped get me back on my feet.

One day I found a Polaroid in the back pocket of my jeans as I was doing laundry. The picture was faded, but I could make out his face squished against mine and the light in our eyes. I wasn’t sure how old the photo was. Tom’s face was more boyish. My hair was shorter.

I crumpled it up and threw it in the bin. But it was on my mind for the days following. I had a good streak of forgetting about him and forgetting the last few years, but it was so easy to think about him and wonder if I had made the right choice. I wasn’t exactly happy with him, but I wasn’t happy without him either.

~

“I really believe she's not coming back,” Tom admitted, sitting back on the sofa. “I know things weren’t great. Actually, things were terrible. It wasn’t what I wanted out of a relationship, that’s for damn sure.”

Paula fixed her glasses, clicker in her free hand. She nodded for her client to go on.

Tom stared at the small black clicker, careful to choose his words, but a bout of rage went through him.

“She drove me fucking crazy,” he said bitterly. “She was crazy! I was crazy! I  _ am  _ crazy!”

_ Click! _

“What?” he argued. “I was stupid to-”

_ Click! _

“I was a stupid twenty year old!”

_ Click! _

Tom sat up again, infuriated. “I wish I never met her! I feel like all of this was a waste of time! I don't  _ want _ it to be a waste of time because…” He took a deep breath. It proved to be helpful in these situations. “Because it wasn't just a one night stand. It was years and years being committed to each other, and weren't even married!”

Paula had a ghost of a smile on her face, indicating that Tom did well with the exercise. 

“I do think I am crazy,” he mumbled, only to be clicked at again. He sighed. “I feel like I have a lot of issues, and maybe I should have done something about them sooner. Then maybe, she and I would have had a better run. Wouldn’t have taken things out on each other.”

“That’s what we’re here for now,” Paula told him. “Do you have the letter?”

Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened up his notes and tapped on “Letter #22.” Then, he began to read.

_ “I thought about how we started, and how different things were. It was fun, and we were happy… No matter how bad things got, we always went back to each other.” _


	2. eyes closed/heaven in hiding

**"Would've trade it all for you/There for you/So tell me how to move on"~"I flip the script like I can take a beating"**

**~~~~**

It wasn't the same. It never was. But it was easy to lie to myself.

It was Tom. He was kissing my neck, touching me in the right places. It was his hair I would tug on, his skin I would scratch, and his name I would resist saying out loud.

I was in love with him. He was the only person who could make me feel so high and special, he had proved it to me over and over again. He was the only one I would ever need. He was the only one who understood me and my needs. I would be with him forever.

And then, it was over. I opened my eyes to find a short haired, blue eyed woman hovering over me. The high was gone before it could sink in. Had I really gotten that lost in the thoughts of the past?

She reached over to stroke my cheek. I flinched at the touch, and she let out some type of laugh mixed with a scoff. Then she got out of bed and started to get dressed.

“You're not staying?” I asked softly.

“I, uh, have an early day tomorrow,” she replied dismissively. She didn't even look at me. “I'll probably call you…”

She left me alone in the hotel room. It's not like I had been thinking about her, but I didn't want to be left alone.

“God, I'm fucked,” I whispered.

~

“I'm not so keen on waiting around for Tom,” I told my shrink, Barb. “But it feels like that's all I'm doing. Even though I made it hard for him to track me down, there's still a part of me that wants him to come and save me again.”

“Save you from what?” Barb asked in return.

I opened my mouth to answer confidently, but then I realized I had no idea why I would say that. Every time Tom came back into my life, it was like he was sweeping me off my feet and saving me from… something.

“I… don't know,” I said.

“Well, let's look into it,” Barb offered before asking a laundry list of questions.

~ 

**3 years ago.**

“It's not everyday I'm in this position,” he huffed out against my sweaty neck.

Tom was pressed up between my body and his kitchen counter. I was helping him move into his new apartment here in LA, but we quickly got distracted. For once, he had met a girl who was a bit stronger than him. Granted, I was a little shorter, but I did get him cornered.

“I told you it would be different with me,” I purred as I stood on my toes to kiss his jawline.

He tried to grab me around my waist, but I caught his wrists. I smirked before I kissed him again.

“Oh, we're playing like that, are we?” he asked.

“You know you love it." 

Somehow we ended up on the couch. It was the only stable piece of furniture in the vicinity. I straddled him, let him get his hands on me for a moment. But only for a moment. It was easy to get him to submit. Just a gentle touch of his hair and a gentle swaying with words had him shaking with excitement.

I liked being charge. It gave me control. I felt free and powerful. He'll do whatever I want, I just had to ask. It was pure bliss.


	3. alone

**"I know you're dying to meet me"**

**~~~~~**

**5 years ago.**

New house. New location. Same city. Must fill with people I don't know.

I had connections all over the place. I just had to drop an invite in one of my abandoned group chats to get the word out. I had been making more friends than I had been in my life. I just had to provide music and booze for them to be there.

My publicist, Nancy, suggested that I try to at least be seen with some big shot celebrity. I said I would, hung up the phone, and drank myself into oblivion.

The house was full of people by the time it got dark outside. People were on the sundeck, at the pool, and probably christening all the bedrooms. No one seemed to care who was hosting.

I did make one acquaintance, though. Went by Nessa. She was also a model on the rise, and she liked to crash parties for the booze. We got along like a house on fire, and that wasn't just because of the alcohol.

“Wait, Nancy works for you too?” she asked after our third tequila shot.

“Yeah, isn't she cool?” I said back. “Where you from, by the way?”

“Chicago! I bet we have the same manager too! Mine is-”

I don't remember what she said, but later I found out we did not have the same manager. Anyway, Nessa and I made a couple more friends that night. I met a guy named Tom, and he brought his friend, Harrison. There was one for each of us.

That's how it started. How many people can say they don't remember meeting the love of their life because of how hammered they were? Well, maybe a lot here in Los Angeles. I guess that should have been a sign for me.

It wasn't until I was alone with Tom in the bathroom did I realize that he was British. Had I been sober, I would have recognized who he was, and maybe I wouldn't have started off by going down on him. But it was late into the night and my noisy head was screaming about the hot, British guy taking his shirt off and pulling me back to my feet.

“Why don't you model your pretty body for me?” he asked lustfully.

Then he pushed me up onto the counter, lips at my neck, and then...

I woke up alone in my bedroom. My mind was a blank slate during the time it took me to get to the bathroom and hack up all the liquor. I also discovered a straggler in the bathtub. A random blonde girl jumped at the sound of my retching and got the fuck out.

When I was done there, I decided to scope out the rest of the house and make sure everyone was gone. I found my phone in the only vase that hadn't been damaged last night, and I had texts from my manager, Charlotte, and my new friend Nessa.

Charlotte wasn't exactly pleased by the things that went down last night. Then again, hardly anything made her not act as cold as stone. She was like a strict school teacher, or an even stricter mother. She called for a meeting in the next two hours. Apparently, my party made the news.

Nessa told me she put her number in my phone in case I needed anything. She also took that guy Harrison back to her place. That brought my mind back to-

“Oh!” I yelped when I saw a naked guy raiding my fridge.

He quickly shielded himself with the door of the fridge and stuck his head out from the side, curly hair falling to one side. “Hi, hello!”

“Why are you still here?” I asked, clutching my chest. Wow, what a nice way to greet the person you slept with.

“I was hungry,” he replied. “Your fridge is empty.”

“That's what happens when you fill the house with strangers,” I paused, looking down momentarily. “You don't have to hide, by the way. Nothing I haven't seen already.”

His cheeks flushed. Hesitantly, he stepped back and closed the fridge and covered himself with his hands. “Well, hi. I'm Tom. I'm, uh, I'm a fan… o-of your work...” He looked down sheepishly.

“Same,” I replied in a similar tone. “I kinda got excited when you followed me on Instagram.”

We exchanged goofy grins. Then Tom spoke again, like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the room,

“I can't find my underwear.”

I tried to think back to where we were last night. Then I gestured for him to follow me to my room.

“I'm actually shocked at how many people left clothing behind,” I told him, looking at my messy bedroom.

“You sure they're not yours?” Tom asked as he picked up a pair of black jeans. “You don't remember, uh, modeling for me?”

My heart fluttered as some of it came back to me. Another look at the clothes on the floor made me realize that they were all mine. I can't trust my drunk self.

“It's gonna take more than showing off my clothes for me to remember,” I told him with a smirk.

His eyes lit up, like he was pleasantly surprised. He was in the middle of doing up his jeans, but then he paused and tugged them down slightly. “Oh, alright. Remember this?”

He exposed his hip bone to me, which wasn't at all what I was expecting. There was a small but noticeable hickey on the skin, and that memory hit like a tidal wave. I got on my knees on the first date.

“Oh…” I blushed deeply. “There's more going down, right?”

Tom nodded, a sultry look in his eyes.

That was all it took. Next thing I knew, he had me up against the wall by the door. Now that we were in our right minds, I could properly enjoy the feeling of his lips, and his strong biceps under my fingertips. His soft hand grazed my thigh before he picked it up and hitched it around his waist.

I felt the heat forming between us. My hands greedily felt around his shoulders and his hair. If I had stayed there any longer I would have just melted into the palm of his hand. But alas, I had to get back into the real world.

“I have things to do,” I told him as he nipped at my neck.

“I'm one of them,” he mumbled.

I giggled, but gently pushed him back. “We'll do this another time, okay? How long are you in LA for?”

“About a week or so,” he replied, still gripping my waist. “I'll come and see you again.”

And he did. We went on an actual date a couple of days later. I had more parties at my house, which he attended with his friend Harrison, who was very taken with my new friend, Nessa. Tom and I usually just ditched my house and went to a bar or a nightclub.

Then Tom was extending his stay in Los Angeles. I was telling the closest things I had to friends about him. Then, Tom and I were “caught” in public, thanks to our publicists working together.

That was when I learned that most celebrities call the paps to follow them around, and 90% of the time, it wasn't a choice by the celebrity. Exposure and publicity was always needed to stay relevant. Tom didn't particularly enjoy that aspect, and neither did I. It didn't matter, though, because we had each other. Everything seemed to go away when I was with him.

I fell hard and I fell fast and I didn't care who knew it.

~

Our little time period of dates and spending time between the sheets only lasted so long. Tom had to go back to London after his press tour, and I had to get back to booking photoshoots. We said our goodbyes at my house and then went our separate ways.

I now had paparazzi on my tail wherever I went, and that wasn't on my publicist’s doing. My follower count on every social media platform went up too, and that only led to “She's using Tom” comments. I didn't really care, though. It was best not to comment on anything. It was several months into the relationship already, so why get petty and angry now?

On the plus side, I was booking plenty of shoots. I even got to do one with Nessa. We were dressed in these fancy, black and gold jumpsuits by Versace and we were being photographed by some dude with a beard.

My favorite thing was that we had to be serious for the camera, but Nessa would say something inappropriately funny before we got our pictures taken. Pretty soon, I had a case of the giggles and we had to take a break, much to the photographer's disdain.

“At least someone appreciates my comedy!” Nessa said as she went to her chair.

I went to mine as well, where I had left my phone. The screen was lit up with a new text, and my heart pounded. I was already smiling because of Nessa’s innuendos, so it was easy to hide my excitement.

_“this is the real love of my life, you're only my side piece✌”_

He attached a photo of himself with his dog Tessa. My heart melted.

" _I'm only dating you to get closer to Tessa so jokes on you :^)”_ I sent back.


	4. now or never

**_“Wishing you were round with me/But you in a different town than me”_ **

**_~~~~~_ **

**Present day.**

“When do you think it started to go downhill?” Paula inquired.

Another week, another hour. Tom hadn't even gotten to the deep shit in his brain yet. A majority of these sessions were just about the dead relationship. When would he talk about his childhood, or the stressors of his career? When would he talk about the drugs and alcohol? He knew Paula would want to hear about that, but Tom could not stop talking about his ex. There were plenty of things to talk about, but his ex was the biggest thing in his mind. As always.

He was lying across the couch as opposed to sitting today. Thinking about her gave him a headache. Talking about her was much less painful than having to actually see her again, though.

“I invited her to go to London with me,” he recalled. “I wanted her to meet my parents. The only problem was that until I invited her, we hadn't spoken for about a month.”

“And why is that?”

Tom shrugged. “I think we were just insanely busy. We promised to talk at least once a day, and one day she didn't text me back…” It clicked. “Oh.”

~

**5 years ago.**

“Alright then,” he mumbled as he threw his phone to the side, unable to look at the read receipt any longer. He rolled over onto his back, feeling completely restless despite sleeping less than four hours. And that wasn't because he had been texting her all night. She hadn't texted him at all.

Perhaps she was just busy with… modeling things. Or maybe she had already gone to sleep. But she always sent a goodnight text if that were the case. What the hell?

Tom tried not to worry. There were always huge gaps between text messages. They were oceans away from each other and they were both doing different things, of course there wouldn't be time to text. He just had to pet his dog and keep himself from blowing up her phone.

He went about his day. Signed a massive amount of posters. Took Tessa out for a walk. Stalked his girlfriend's Instagram page. He never actually spoke to her, though. He found out why when he saw her Instagram story update when he refreshed the page.

“Mate, did you see Nessa’s Snapchat?” asked Harrison, who was also scrolling on his phone.

Things began and ended quickly with those two, so Tom was a little surprised to hear him speak of her. But that's not what made his stomach turn. He viewed the Instagram story he was on and saw his own girlfriend in what looked to be a club.

She was posing with Nessa, both of them holding shot glasses. The next snap was a video of the pair of them downing the shots. The one after that was the two of them dancing provocatively to the music.

“Having fun without me…” he mumbled before sending a text.

“I know, it sucks,” Harrison agreed, oblivious to his friend's annoyance. “That's why I ended things with Nessa. Can't always keep an eye on her. Can't always be with her.”

“You can keep an eye on them as long as they stay online,” Tom said back, staring at his phone with intense focus.

_ “Call me as soon as you're not hammered.”  _ Send.

It was like, what? Five in the morning in Los Angeles? Surely she must have been home by now…  if her stupid friend didn't talk her into doing other reckless things. Or if she hasn't been picked up by some other guy. Oh god, what if another guy took her away?

_ “Or call me when you get home. Just call me,”  _ he added. Hopefully the punctuation showed how serious this was.

“It's like she doesn't even care,” Tom said with a small scoff.

Harrison chuckled in disbelief. “You're serious, mate? What have we been doing since we got back?”

Tom rolled his eyes. Why was he so upset over this? “At least I have the decency to tell her when I'm home.”

“No, I had the decency. You passed out in the cab, while you were texting her.”

Tom stayed quiet and waited for the inevitable phone call.

~

It was a Skype call, and it was at two in the morning, London time. Tom didn't care, he was just glad to hear from her after spending the day trying not to worry. He didn't worry, he was only very pissed off.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked when he finally had her on his laptop screen. 

She was taken aback, it showed on her face. “I've been busy all day. Sorry I didn't answer your texts.”

“That's it? You wanna tell me where you were last night and why you couldn't tell me about any of it?” he demanded.

“I went out, me and Nessa went to some bars-”

“A night club,” Tom corrected. “I saw Instagram and Snapchat, you don't have to lie.”

Clearly, that struck a nerve. “I'm not lying! I went out and had fun! And I passed out as soon as I got home. When I woke up, I had a really long, uh, meeting with Nancy and Charlotte, and I just got back,  _ and  _ I have a shoot to do at seven. Believe it or not, I can have fun without you! I can still have a life without you!”

“I just don't want you to be with anybody else!” he told her, wanting to yank his own hair out.

They just looked at each other through the screen. Was this their first fight?

“We knew this wouldn't be easy,” she said. “We never have time off at the same time anymore. We barely have time to talk. We live on separate parts of the world.”

“But we can do it,” Tom said. “Why else would I want you to call me if I thought we couldn't do it?”

Her silence was not reassuring.

“I could go over there,” Tom offered. “I could stay over there.”

“And leave your family behind?”

“They'll understand. I've been wanting to move to LA, anyway.”

He was thinking on the spot, but when he said it out loud, it felt right. He just wasn't reassured by the frown on the screen. Was she not going to be on board with this? Was it too soon? What was she thinking?

“Say something,” he pleaded.

She shrugged. “I don't wanna make you do anything.”

“Don't you think it would be good for us, though?”

“I mean, probably, but like I said, your family is over there and you'll be over here. Most of my relatives are on the east coast and I'm not sure how I've coped with it over time.”

This would have been a good time to hold her hand and stroke her hair, but she was thousands of miles away. “We can cope together.”

She didn't seemed comforted by those words. She wasn't even looking at him. “I don't know, just do whatever you want. Don't let me influence you.”

It was like talking to a wall.

“I… I guess I'll stay here then,” Tom said, disgruntled.

A month later, he asked her to come visit him in London. He wanted her to meet his family, so she could see what they're like. So she could see that they understood and fully supported Tom's decisions.

Even after hardly speaking after that Skype call, she agreed to make the trip. At the time, it was reassuring. It was just what Tom needed for him to continue pursuing her.

~

The couple had spent practically the entire day with the family. Tom's parents loved her, she got along with his brothers, Tessa warmed up to her immediately. The day was perfect.

Now they were back at Tom's apartment, getting ready for bed. Tom went into the bathroom, where his wonderful lady was brushing her teeth. He hopped up onto the counter and looked at her, a grin on his face.

“So…?” he asked expectantly. 

She gave him a look, her eyes darting down to the toothbrush in her mouth.

“Sorry, I just really want to know how you got on with my parents,” he said, bouncing a little from the excitement. “Do you like them? Do you like it here in London?”

She finished up and then wiped her mouth. “I like them, everyone's really sweet. And this city is pretty great… from what I’ve seen of it.”

And she turned on her heel to go to the bedroom. Tom followed after her, wanting more than just a sentence.

“Anything else?” he asked as he flopped facefirst onto the bed. “Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?” He placed his chin in his hands and smiled up at her.

She shrugged. “My comment is that I have no concerns. My thoughts on the other hand…” She raised her eyebrows and crawled onto the bed.

The two of them got under the covers and just held each other for a moment. Tom kissed the top of her head, oddly content. He was glad they got past the tense, over-the-phone silence. Things were okay now. 


End file.
